Inside a dimly lit laboratory, only the faint emergency lights still flickered, making the scene look downright hellish.
Most of the facilities had shut down, but the monitors in the control room were still glowing. Around seven or eight people were crammed inside.
One of them, a Black man who still looked rather fat seven months into the apocalypse, urgently said to the others,
"Finally, someone's here again. If they dared come with only two people, they must be capable. Hurry and get them to draw the zombies away. This might be our last chance!"
"How do we call them? Over the PA system? The zombie horde will go berserk."
"Two people drawing them away doesn't seem realistic either. Sigh, we should've taken our chances with the last group. There were more of them that time, and they had several cars."
"What's the point of talking about that now?"
"..."
They all spoke at once, growing increasingly anxious. But as their voices grew louder, a heavy metallic bang suddenly rang out, silencing them. They stared in terror, not daring to breathe.
After a while, the sound finally stopped, following several more impacts.
The violent banging was enough to make the images on the surveillance screens shake.
But the underground laboratory's security measures kept the sound from carrying outside.
"Getting them to draw the zombies away isn't realistic. Why would they do that? But I think we could invite them in and see if they'll take us out. They must have a reason for coming here, and we could help them."
A middle-aged woman wearing glasses spoke up.
"Whatever the case, they look like combat personnel, right? Call them in."
"How? And what about the zombies at the entrance?"
"I don't think we need to call them. They seem to know